


I Forget Where We Were

by Asallia



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, F/F, Poor Life Choices, Post-Canon, Romance, Travel, Unrequited Love, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asallia/pseuds/Asallia
Summary: In the bloom of a Parisian summer, Honoka and Umi learn to let go of a friend they once held dear.
Relationships: Kousaka Honoka & Minami Kotori & Sonoda Umi, Kousaka Honoka/Sonoda Umi, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ottermelon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottermelon/gifts).



> The first part of a birthday present for a very dear friend of mine, because how else to celebrate than with the gift of sad girls carrying around unresolved romantic tension? We got a chance to hang out a few months back, and that gave me the idea for something travel-themed; hence what I’ve managed to come up with.
> 
> For a variety of reasons, the least of which being that I wrote it for him, this covers a lot of the same thematic ground as Ottermelon’s work. So if you like it, I’d highly recommend checking out [his fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969651) if you haven’t already.

i.

Umi and Honoka kissed, once.

It wasn't a big deal, or if it was, Umi could never discern that the taste of Honoka's strawberry chapstick was meant to hold any weight in her mind. It did, in no uncertain terms, but whether it was _supposed_ to was another question entirely.

It had been a blustery autumn evening somewhere in the depths of their senior year, a time taken up by college applications and existential questions about where their lives would lead them. Umi didn’t remember the rest of the day very well; classes had stretched on for an eternity as they so often seemed to back then, until the bell finally rang to signal their freedom. Kotori opted to stay after school, however, eager to get some stitching done in peace. That was how Umi and Honoka had been left to make their way back alone.

"Are you warm enough? You're not dressed for the weather," Umi fretted aimlessly. She wasn't sure if Honoka was even that underdressed, but it seemed right to worry all the same, or at the very least to fill a silence that hung in the air along with the leaves.

“I’m fine,” Honoka replied with a laugh. She pointed to a loosely knit scarf that draped over her shoulders. “You don’t need to worry, Kotori just knitted this for me the other day. It’s cozy!”

“Oh.” The word hung in the air limply as Umi stared at Honoka. “It, uh, looks nice on you.” She felt as if she should have been able to conjure up something a bit more sincere, but it was just a scarf, so she held her tongue.

“Really?” Honoka looked down at the scarf curiously, palming the loose fabric with a hand. “Well, I guess Kotori _would_ know how to make me look good,” she remarked with a small chuckle, undoubtedly thinking back to the myriad of school idol outfits Kotori had designed for them. She paused, as if in contemplation, before she spoke up again. “She’s been working really hard recently, hasn’t she?”

It seemed an innocuous comment to make, but Umi knew there was more to it than that, a lingering insecurity hiding somewhere between Honoka’s words. After all, these walks shared between the two of them had slowly shifted from exception to norm.

“It’s a busy time of year, Honoka. She’s just making sure she’ll get into a good school.”

“Did she tell you she’s applying to schools in Paris?”

Umi frowned, despite herself. “Yeah.”

They were quiet for a moment, the sound of soles against concrete and the faint chirping of birds the only sounds that pierced the ambient noise of the city. Finally, Umi turned back to Honoka, eyes searching for some unspoken thought she might glean from the way Honoka tottered to and fro along her path.

“Are you okay with that?”

Honoka laughed, though any humor in the sound felt entirely hollow. The question, it seemed, had already been answered, though Honoka at least made an effort to deflect. “She’s going to be all rich and famous and give me free clothes, how couldn’t I be?” Her voice carried an unearned exuberance that masked something else.

Umi pursed her lips in concern. “This is serious, Honoka.”

“I know, I just…” Honoka’s voice trailed off into a sigh, her false grin melting into something more genuine, a weary smile. “I want her to do things that make her happy. She deserves that.”

“She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell she’s been fretting about it. I think she’s scared of…” Umi’s voice trailed off, not quite wanting to make the connection herself.

“What happened last time? That was my fault,” Honoka replied. “We won’t make those same mistakes. Or… I won’t, anyways.”

“You’ll support her, then?” Honoka nodded, and a wave of relief washed over Umi. “I’m glad. I’m not even sure she’d go if you don’t actively encourage her to. She cares so much about what you think, Honoka.”

“I mean, it’s not like I want her to be so far away,” Honoka replied in uncharacteristically measured words. “But I still wonder if it was right of me to ask her to stay before. I know she wanted to, but… I don’t know,” she lamented more to herself than Umi. Her gaze fell to the ground, eyes pensive. “Because of me, her dream had to wait. I still feel guilty about that.”

Honoka being so _self-aware_ was a strange thing for Umi to bear witness to, enough that it felt like a minor miracle in of its own, and she felt a pang of pride in her heart. Umi leaned closer to give Honoka a playful bump on the shoulder as they continued to meander along the busy Akihabara streets.

“Love Live was _also_ her dream, Honoka, because it was yours.”

Honoka looked up at Umi for a brief moment. Hope flickered in her eyes, and for the faintest moment it almost seemed like they were backlit, brighter than even the evening sun overhead. “Really?”

“Yeah. She’s lucky to have a friend like you, you know. She was happy following you.” Honoka smiled in reply, and they fell silent again for a brief moment. “And… so was I,” Umi added quietly, eyes averted from Honoka and a hint of rose on her cheeks. They had taken a turn down a sleepy sidestreet that led towards both of their houses, flashy technology stores giving way to quaint storefronts, a side of their neighborhood that few tourists ever seemed to notice.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Umi continued after a brief but pregnant silence, “but we’ll make it work. Together. Right?”

“Hey, Umi-chan?” Honoka slowed to a stop, lacing her fingers together behind her back and tottering from side to side absently. Umi halted as well, turning around and looking at Honoka with eyebrows raised and mouth parted ever so slightly. Perhaps her last comment had been too much, she worried.

Finally, her mouth opened to form a reply. “Is everything okay?”

Honoka nodded, a soft _“yes”_ escaping her lips as she took a swift step that closed the distance between the two of them. She simply stood there, gazing into the depths of Umi’s eyes with an expression that Umi couldn’t quite fathom. Her heart beat ever faster, a steady succession of thumps in her chest keeping time as the silence lingered.

And then her heart skidded to a halt as Honoka leaned in and planted a peck on her lips with no forewarning. The kiss was brief and hurried, yet as natural as the cold bluster of the air around them. Even if Honoka's lips hadn't lingered, the sensation and touch and taste and _that damn chapstick_ permanently etched themselves into every crack of Umi's lips all the same. 

"I want to stay like this forever," Honoka said with the warmest smile Umi had ever seen, framed angelically against the pitch oranges and reds lighting up the evening sky. Umi didn't know what _this_ was, nor did she have the mental wherewithal to decode the answer. She was too preoccupied staring at Honoka slackjawed, unable to conjure any kind of reply, but in retrospect that might have been exactly what Honoka had planned on.

Honoka giggled, took her hand, and led her onwards. They left the kiss where it had been, a perfect second etched into the ground that they had stood upon. Honoka never once brought it up, nor did Umi, even when that memory played back in her head night after restless night, long after life had moved on. She would rationalize it as Honoka being _Honoka_ , that same boundless source of inscrutable, rash choices that had taken them all the way to Love Live.

After all, it was only a kiss, a fleeting moment in time. She just had to hold onto it, even if she was the only one to do so. Honoka was the stars, the sun, the full moon, and every other bright light that reflected off the still surface of the ocean; Umi could never in good conscience forget that.

She loved Honoka too much to do so.

ii.

Honoka and Kotori were dreamers. They saw the stars and chased them, refusing to let those distant shimmers of hope elude their grasp. Umi always followed behind, loyal and true to whatever they needed her to be, but she could never bring herself to feel the same way when she looked up at that night sky. She didn’t reach for the stars; she rooted herself to the ground.

All her life, Umi had taken it upon herself to be the bearer of weights that her friends couldn't carry. She was the realist, if there ever really was such a thing, and she hated to live in denial. That was why she shouldered the burden of the brick wall they had always been careening towards. Childhood, middle school, high school; it had all been building towards adulthood, and no matter how many good times Umi shared with her best friends, she couldn't escape the knowledge that life would catch up with them. They all had people they had to become, new realities to construct for themselves.

That was why she had never been truly shocked when Kotori drifted from them after moving away for college. A life of Parisian cafés, cutting edge fashion, and all those other things Umi could only ever imagine - it fit everything Kotori had always wanted to become to a T. Umi refused to let herself be dismayed by the way weekly video chats turned into missed phone calls, how texts became few and far between. Now that there were four years separating them from their high school days, most of Kotori's messages had become apologies for not messaging. No one wanted to think about how exhausting that really was, so they just let it linger. To acknowledge the heartache of that dreaded _read_ symbol was to face reality, one that Umi thought best to bear alone - so they never did.

But on an airplane making its way over the steppes of central Asia, Umi found herself careening towards that brick wall all the same.

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

Umi’s contemplation was suddenly interrupted by the vaguely-recognized gesture of a hand waving itself in front of her immediate vision. Blinking a few times as her consciousness returned to her present environment, Umi craned her neck to look at the flight attendant next to her.

“I was asking you if you’d like something to drink, ma’am,” she explained.

“O- oh…” Umi’s thoughts were progressing in fits and starts at the moment, leaving her without any clarity of mind, but she managed to put everything aside for a brief moment. “A ginger ale would be fine.”

“Of course. And for your friend?” The attendant looked rather pointedly at Honoka, who was seated in the seat beside Umi, white-knuckling the armrests and staring straight through the blank screen on the headrest in front of her, eyes wide and face pale.

“Ah, right.” Umi sighed, the drawn-out breath of air signalling her exhaustion; she had warned Honoka of what would inevitably happen if she got on a plane, yet for all her posturing, Umi had never been able to tame Honoka, nor had she ever really wanted to. Instead, she’d always been inclined to pave over the cracks in Honoka’s plans - even if that meant micromanaging Honoka to make sure her fear of flying didn’t get the best of her. “A glass of wine might be a good idea,” Umi replied with a weary smile sporting the faintest hint of wryness.

The attendant’s eyes flickered to Honoka before returning to Umi. With a sympathetic look, she began pouring a glass and handed it over.

“It’s on the house,” she whispered. She passed Umi a can of soda next then swiftly moved on to the next person, leaving Umi no time to protest the gift. She knew she’d have to thank the attendant later, but first there was the matter of the woman beside her to attend to. She raised a hand to tap Honoka on the shoulder gently.

“For you,” Umi said with what she hoped was a comforting smile. The wine glass was offered to Honoka, who stared blankly for a moment before a hand finally released its vice grip on the armrest to receive it - it didn’t take very long before the wine had disappeared entirely, the empty glass set down on her tray table with a dull thud before Umi could even crack open her own drink.

“How close are we?” Honoka’s breaths came short and shallow, her vision refusing to break its connection with the seatback.

“Not very,” Umi replied. She rubbed a hand up and down Honoka’s forearm, before it came to rest on her shoulder. The gesture seemed to help, if only to ease Honoka’s outward symptoms of anxiety. “Why don’t you try getting some sleep? I’ll wake you up when it’s time for the customs forms.”

At that, Honoka’s expression finally loosened up, enough for a humored smile to sneak its way onto her sweat-soaked face. “Maybe,” she conceded. “I want to, I just can’t stop thinking about…” A hand waved around aimlessly, a feeble attempt to give some tangible form to the jumble of thoughts occupying her head. Suddenly, for the first time since they’d left the ground, she turned to Umi, her expression laced with an uncharacteristic apprehension. “Do you think she’ll be happy to see us?”

_ Right. Her.  _ It seemed strange that neither of them had spoken that name in so long, as if by superstition. It held some surreptitious weight to it, one that was important enough to recognize yet too vague for either of them to grasp in a meaningful way.

It had barely even been spoken as they planned this trip, not even when Honoka had first come to Umi with the desire to fly all the way to Paris, _Paris, France_ , to surprise her with a visit. Umi wondered why they were going through all of this if they weren’t prepared to talk about the woman they were supposed to be visiting, but posing the question would have been an ordeal all its own.

Instead she smiled, a plastered look masking the worry in her heart. “ _Thrilled_ ,” she corrected Honoka. “She’ll be thrilled, I promise. Especially knowing that you flew twelve hours,” she added with a laugh. “I doubt she forgot how the flight to New York went.”

Honoka giggled in return, the fondness of the memory enough to visibly coax her from the worst of her anxiety. “Remember when I puked all over her brand new skirt?” she said as she held a hand to her mouth to keep herself from laughing too hard. “I felt so bad I spent all my money the first night buying her some expensive replacement.”

Umi laughed harder at the memory of Honoka trying to bum her lunches off of the rest of the group the entire trip, enough that she let out an audible snort. Her hands pressed themselves to her mouth in embarrassment, but not before the man across the aisle shot her an unamused glance. That only seemed to make Honoka laugh harder, though, and it took her a moment before she was able to control the outburst of giggles.

“I’m really excited to see her,” she said wistfully after wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I saw a selfie she posted on Instagram the other day, you know. She looks so beautiful now.”

Umi hadn’t had the heart to check Kotori’s social media in ages, but her imagination was more than capable of filling in the gaps, conjuring an image of that familiar ashen hair draped over some lovingly knit blouse or shawl, the kind of thing with an amount of frills and flourishes that only Kotori could pull off.

“I bet she looks like a proper fashion designer,” Umi concurred with a warm smile.

“Hey Umi-chan?” Honoka’s eyes had widened ever-so-slightly, giving them an almost innocent glint as a hand reached to Umi’s armrest and placed itself on top of Umi’s own. “Thank you for coming with me to see her.”

Umi’s mouth hung open for the briefest of moments in surprise. “I didn’t have much of a choice, you know. Do you really think I’d let you fly so far without me to keep an eye on you?”

“No,” Honoka suddenly said with a surprising amount of force behind the single word. “I mean it, Umi-chan. I…” She looked down solemnly as her voice trailed off, but a sudden bump of the plane brought her back to attention, back ramrod straight and hand clamping down on Umi’s. Only after a minute did her mouth start moving again, formulating her words cautiously. “I know it was last minute, and I know you think it’s a bad idea. Maybe you’ll wind up hating me for this, but I needed you with me. I wanted all three of us to be together again.”

If Umi didn’t know any better, she would have assumed this was all a ploy for sympathy, the way Honoka looked so innocent and laced her hand with Umi’s in a manner that almost felt cloying. But it was achingly sincere, just like everything else Honoka had ever done.

Just like this trip.

Umi furled her brows, doing her best to look stern before quickly giving up. She squeezed Honoka’s hand, and Honoka squeezed back.

“I’m happy to be here, Honoka.”

Honoka looked content with that reply, and Umi was grateful that she didn’t have to elaborate.

Suddenly, however, the plane hit another bout of turbulence and shook just long enough for Honoka to scurry back into her shell, the moment dying out with a quiet whimper. Umi sighed, and used her spare hand to pry open the book that had been resting on her tray table. Their hands stayed laced together.

If a brick wall lay in front of them, at least Umi was around to shield Honoka from the impact.

iii.

By the time they finally managed to get to their hotel - some creaky, blessedly cheap little place tucked away in the narrow alleys of the Marais - Umi was completely exhausted. She wasn’t sure how Honoka had managed to rebound so quickly after their flight, but evidently the sleep had done her well. She was practically bouncing off the walls, itching and raring to explore even as Umi was just beginning to settle in.

Umi, meanwhile, had spent the entire plane ride awake despite her best instincts, fretting and worrying aimlessly. Even attempting to put on a movie or read her unfinished romance novel had done nothing; her thoughts always quickly began to veer back towards the person she had lately been thinking about with tunnel-vision clarity - the very same person they were here to see. As always Kotori’s presence seemed to loom over their lives, even from so far away.

“Umi-chan, let’s goooo,” Honoka whined. She flopped down on the bed face first, a childishly indignant motion that elicited a chuckle from Umi. Putting aside her worries and exhaustion, Umi tried to shift her focus towards something more productive.

“Give me a few minutes, for the love of god. Why don’t you unpack instead?” A hand idly made its way to Honoka’s head, ruffling her matted hair gently. “Maybe run a brush through this mess too,” she added wryly.

Honoka let out a little _hmph_ , the sound muffled by the comforter beneath her, and then flipped herself around so that she was staring at the mottled white of the ceiling. Umi moved her hand away instinctually, but before it could be fully retracted Honoka grabbed it and moved it back to her head, giving a soft smile of approval as Umi began the soothing motion again despite her embarrassment.

“We’re in _Paris_ , though! I wanna go see that one street!”

“What street?” Umi stared at Honoka, brows scrunching up into an expression of bemusement.

“You know, like… the big one with the giant arch at the end! And all the shops!”

“The _Champs-Elysees_?” Honoka nodded enthusiastically, but Umi only sighed. “Honoka, that’s all high-end boutiques. You can’t afford any of those. If you’d like to go there to visit the _Arc de Triomphe_ , though, I’d be happy to tell you a bit about the history of-”

“Wait!” Suddenly Honoka sat up, interrupting Umi’s words without even taking a moment to appreciate her carefully-choreographed French pronunciation. Umi let out an indignant _hmph_ much as Honoka had done only a moment prior, but that too was to be ignored. “Okay, so... what if we look for Kotori’s clothes! I bet she’s got, like, really big fashion lines and stuff!”

Umi now found herself wincing when she heard the name, wounded by the knowledge that all of their conversations eventually came back around to Kotori Minami. Perhaps it was a futile endeavor to try and act as though they were here purely to see the sights, however, so she sucked it up and put on her best smile.

“Don’t you think we would’ve heard about it if she had a big fashion line? She’s still in school, Honoka.”

Honoka frowned, eyebrows furled. “Fair, I guess. Could we still look?” She stared up at Umi with pleading eyes that sparkled with all the innocence of an abandoned puppy, and Umi knew she couldn’t say no.

“Fine,” she conceded with a dramatic sigh as if this was an act of pity rather than one of enabling. “If you’d like to, I’ll join you.”

Those words were enough to elicit a whirlwind change of tone from Honoka, who instantly hopped out of bed with bounding energy to get ready, knocking Umi’s hand from its perch atop her head.

“You’re the best!” she shouted, and though she couldn’t see, Umi blushed fiercely at the praise.

She got up and laid claim to the bathroom as soon as Honoka had finished preparing, splashing some cold water on her face to try and shake off the exhaustion that wracked her body in preparation for a new day of keeping up with her oldest friend.

When she dried herself off, Umi looked up to meet her own gaze through the reflection in the mirror. With a worried frown, she scrutinized the skin on her face, trying to glean something from its flaws. Her laugh lines were far too visible, she’d never liked that. Kotori had always said they made her look mature, but Umi always read into that as _old_ , regardless of what the intent behind the word had been.

_ Kotori. _ God, Umi hated how much she thought about Kotori. Every stray thought, every warm memory. No matter what, that ashen hair and feminine laugh wormed their way into each and every path her mind took. She would never admit it to Honoka, but it was enough for some small twinge of resentment to begin taking root in her heart as of late.

After all, if there was ever a single value that Umi cherished most, one that she clung to like a lifeline, it was loyalty. Loyalty was what gave her purpose, what got her up in the morning and what put her to sleep at night. She’d never faltered in standing by Honoka’s side, even after all these long years, and she couldn’t resist the feeling that Kotori _hadn’t_ , even though she knew perfectly well that Kotori only left Tokyo when she had received Honoka’s blessing along with Umi’s.

Perhaps that was why her feelings towards Kotori had become so warped and complex over the years, why she viewed her childhood best friend with that hint of disdain that she knew she had no right to hold. When Kotori had expressed that she wanted to go to school in Paris all those years ago, Umi had supported her despite the crushing sadness that would have been left in their hearts as μ’s lost such an important member. Umi could never have begrudged her for chasing her dreams, no matter what that had ultimately meant for everyone else.

Yet still Umi had failed in that responsibility, at least to some extent. Maybe that made her a hypocrite, she thought idly as she applied some concealer to cover the dark circles under her eyes. If she couldn’t even whole-heartedly support Kotori, how could she call herself loyal? These thoughts had always found a way to disrupt her lines of thinking and make her question her presumptions, but while that was a healthy thing, it was also exhausting.

Tending to Honoka was easier, comfortable and familiar in the effects it had on Umi’s heart. She understood the thumping in her chest whenever she made Honoka smile, or the way she only knew how to express her feelings by nitpicking. It made sense, so much more than her jumbled thoughts on Kotori.

Soon enough she finished getting ready, however, and made a note to stop for some coffee as soon as possible. Honoka was waiting for her at the door, effortlessly beautiful in a flowery pink blouse that made Umi’s dress shirt look drab in comparison. Her lips were brushed with a hint of glitter and tinted a faint pink. Umi stared for the briefest of moments before catching herself, wondering how Honoka’s lips would taste if she captured them with her own right then and there. Would they taste of strawberry? She chided herself for the thought, however, and let it go.

They made their way to a major street and hailed a cab, the trip passing by in a flurry of scenery and excitable chatter from Honoka. Umi only stared out at the passing architecture with a gaze that she hoped didn’t seem as pensive as it felt, her mind barely keeping track of Honoka’s trains of thought.

“... Umi-chan?”

Eventually, hearing her name managed to rouse her attention, and she jolted from her stupor. That had become far too regular an occurrence, she thought absently to herself.

“What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” she sheepishly confessed.

“I was asking if you’re excited to go surprise Kotori-chan tomorrow!”

“Oh, right… yes, of course. Tomorrow.” Umi gave Honoka a smile that she hoped seemed genuine, though internally she was filled with little else other than dread at the thought.

Even after they stepped out of the cab and emerged into the bustling heart of Paris with wide-eyed wonder, Umi could only dwell on the day ahead of them. They had agreed to take a day to themselves first on Umi’s insistence, if only to get their bearings and rest, then to surprise Kotori the next day with a visit to her school. Really, it was a matter of convenience above all else; they didn’t even know where Kotori lived, much less any other detail about her life. The only reason they actually knew when to wait for her at her school’s front gate was because Umi had called its admin office and practically begged for Kotori’s schedule in broken French.

And yet even though Umi found herself in the throes of her anxiety, the birds kept chirping and the sun kept shining without a care in the world for her plight. It was a gorgeous summer day, crystal clear skies holding no trace of the stormy clouds that made up Umi’s thoughts. At least Honoka seemed to be enjoying the ambiance, Umi thought; if she were worrying as much as Umi, at least, she didn’t reveal it. She just kept smiling her usual smile, tugging Umi along by the cuff of her shirt, and Umi dutifully followed.

The next hour was a whirlwind rush of boutiques that blurred together into one amorphous mass, the sheer amount of shopping enough to induce a headache. Eventually they found themselves in a shop towards the end of the street, a quaint little place selling a variety of cute outfits. Honoka had snagged a few off the wall, holding one after another in front of her in front of a mirror, like she were imagining herself as one of the models who graced the runways of the city.

“That one looks good on you,” Umi eventually chimed in with a warm smile. Honoka was holding up a light summer dress decorated with vibrant yellow sunflowers. In the mirror it seemed to be a perfect fit, the image of it cascading down Honoka’s body already crystal clear in Umi’s mind.

“The colors complement you well,” she added. Honoka hummed thoughtfully.

“You think? I’m not sure. It’s too expensive, anyways.” The corners of her lips tugged downwards, and she moved to hang it back up on a nearby rack. “Kotori-chan or Nico-chan would know what to pick out for me.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help with this kind of thing…”

Honoka looked up at Umi apologetically. “No, no, it’s not your fault. I just miss going shopping with them, you know? I feel like I didn’t appreciate having two designers around enough,” she added with a sheepish laugh. Umi didn’t say anything in reply.

The two wandered out of the store silently, Umi’s eyes squinting as the sun’s rays came to bear down upon her vision. Once they finally adjusted, she turned to Honoka.

“I know it’s not as fun, but… maybe some history?” She jabbed her thumb behind her, pointing towards the imposing monolith that was the _Arc de Triomphe_ , and Honoka laughed.

“That sounds like fun,” she said. They began walking towards its base, cutting through throngs of tourists much like them.

When they got to the arc, Honoka immediately bounded off to explore the surrounding area, leaving Umi to think about Nico as she ran the palm of her hand along the smooth marble, soaking in the centuries of history all around them. When was the last time they’d really talked? Nico was busy with her idol career, sure, but was that really any excuse?

She loved all her old friends so dearly, and yet she let them drift away from her so easily, telling herself all the while that she was freeing them somehow. It didn’t feel fair to them. Hell, it didn’t feel fair to _Honoka_.

Umi’s fingers brushed against the engraved names of people long since gone, whose stories had been buried and snuffed out by the intervening centuries, and she tried to think of the last time she had seen Honoka’s eyes truly sparkle. Maybe it had been Love Live, but… she knew in her heart that it was that autumn evening lost to the years, when they had shared a kiss that Honoka probably couldn’t even remember. Back when things had seemed so much more simple, when they all still shared a city.

Umi wished things had stayed like that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! I originally meant to have this done months and months ago, but as always I underestimated how much it takes to get angst down on paper - ironically, it took [Ottermelon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottermelon) updating his own HonoUmi fic to get me back in the groove on this one. Still, hope the wait was worth it. All the melodrama had to be dumped into this chapter by necessity of the story, but I promise catharsis is coming next. :)

iv.

Kotori once said something that stuck with Umi, clinging to her skin like a layer of grime she could never quite wash off. It must have been right around when they graduated, though the details had become foggy with the slow creep of time. The only part that had crystallized, made concrete and _real_ in a way that few moments from that twilight of high school truly felt, was the scenery. It had been spring, but summer was already seeping into view in the form of the birds chirping, the oppressive heat bearing down, the way every day seemed to drag on and on into a hazy, listless blur.

It was at the end of one of those days, perhaps, that Umi and Kotori sat on a swing set in an empty park they’d stumbled across. The leaves on the trees ambled and swayed without a care in the world above them, and the incessant hum of a cicada sounded out somewhere in the distance. Umi found herself drawing the back of her hand across her brow in a futile attempt to rid herself of the thin layer of sweat that had formed there.

“You don’t have to look so nervous, Umi-chan.”

Umi quickly craned her head to face Kotori, who had affixed her with a wryly concerned look as she pressed a can of iced coffee to her cheek. Even Kotori, in all her endless aesthetic perfection, wasn’t immune to the heat.

“Is that how I seem?” Umi replied. “It’s just…”

“Hot,” Kotori finished. “I know. But still, I just can’t help but see you sitting there, desperately trying to think of something to talk about.” A giggle flittered about in the air to punctuate the thought, one that registered in Umi’s mind as reassurance that the teasing was in good faith.

Umi grumbled all the same, however, wanting vehemently to object despite knowing perfectly well that Kotori had caught her brain in the act of racing towards a million dead ends - as it so often did.

“There’s only so many more times we’re going to do this, Kotori. Don’t you feel like you need to make it count?”

A thoughtful hum escaped Kotori’s lips. “I suppose I do, but... well, doesn’t just being together count?”

“That’s such a Kotori thing to say,” Umi replied with a humored roll of her eyes. “Why can’t you just brood like the rest of us?”

The two shared a laugh together, one that died out after a few seconds and melted into the chorus of cicadas around them.

“So, are you brooding then?” Kotori turned to Umi, a thoughtful look in her eyes paired with that ever-knowing smile she wore.

“Not really,” Umi replied, the sincerity coming to her surprisingly easy. Kotori had always had that effect on her, she supposed. “Fretting, perhaps. I’m worried that I’ll look back on days like this one and regret that I didn’t cherish them enough.”

“Well luckily for you, you’ve got someone else to share the burden with.” Kotori nudged Umi gently with her shoulder, and in turn Umi cracked a faint smile. “Good,” she added. “You’re smiling. I wish you would do that more often.”

A faint hint of rose bloomed on Umi’s cheeks, and the corners of her lips retreated downwards out of self-consciousness. “I’m not very good at that lately,” she remarked sheepishly.

“You’re better at it than you realize,” Kotori replied. The remark left Umi puzzled, but it wasn’t a rare occurrence for Kotori to offer those kinds of cryptic musings that always seemed to pass over Umi’s head. Whether or not it was intentional, Umi couldn’t quite decipher.

Regardless it didn’t particularly seem to matter, not when Kotori chose not to expand on the thought. Instead they retreated to a comfortable silence, Kotori’s legs swinging back and forth as they hung off the swing. Umi could only sit there, grasping the chains on either side of her as she watched the occasional stray soul pass by on the street in front of them. Salarymen on their way home, couples out on evening strolls. Everyone had somewhere to be, but no one seemed to be in a rush to get there - not during Tokyo’s golden hour, when the sky was ablaze with color and life.

“You know,” Kotori finally spoke with thoughtful measure, “if you’re looking for something to talk about, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Umi swayed her seat back and forth idly. “What is it?”

“Well… I thought you would accept that scholarship in Kyoto. What happened to that?”

Kotori had mentioned once upon a time that Umi was predictable, and perhaps Umi had a chip on her shoulder about it still. At the thought of being measured the way Kotori so often measured her, her skin bristled and the corners of her lips tugged downward.

“Why do you bring that up?”

“Oh, just curiosity.”

“Well, I wanted to stay in Tokyo,” Umi replied curtly, a sudden change of tone.

In response, Kotori only gave her one of those knowing looks, the ones that _seemed_ innocent yet hid some small measure of disappointment in the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry Umi-chan, but I don’t think you did.”

“Kotori…” Umi sighed, her hands fidgeting with the pleats of her skirt. She knew where this was going, and she wasn’t about to ward Kotori off with a mere caustic look. Suddenly, her wish to make this moment count had started to seem more like a curse she’d placed on herself. “You can’t decide things like that for me.”

“You decided it for yourself,” Kotori corrected. “You went there to visit last fall. You bought a shirt. I saw the texts in the group chat, Umi-chan, how excited you were. Then you just… stopped talking about it.” She paused, breath wound and bated. She went for the kill, words that flew through the air like bullets despite being little more than a whisper. “Is this about Paris?”

Umi tensed. It was a harsh insinuation, or at the very least a highly vulnerable one. Umi looked to Kotori, gauging the gleam in the golden amber of her eyes. Somewhere in time, she’d gotten the idea that they shared some connection through that shared eye color, but now it only seemed a childish thought, not any kind of real tie that could bind them.

“No, I, I didn’t…” Umi fumbled her words, desperately groping in the dark for some means of reassurance that was far too ephemeral to take hold of.

“ _Umi-chan,_ ” Kotori interjected with a gentle force to the word. “Just be honest, please. It’s just the two of us.”

“No! I mean… maybe.” Umi grimaced, knowing full well how Kotori would feel if she didn’t phrase this the right way. Her next words came out slowly, weighed and considered. “Maybe it was influenced by you leaving. I don’t really know. I just felt that it was right to stay in Tokyo. I have duties and obligations, Kotori. It’s best for me not to abandon them.”

At that Kotori’s expression softened into a smile, if one that carried some faint trace of sadness. “And Honoka-chan?”

An image of Honoka, crystal clear, flashed through Umi’s mind. She stood there, haloed by gleaming light and looking like life itself. Umi swallowed the lump in her throat. It hurt.

“She would benefit from me being here. We won’t be going to the same university, but…”

“Oh, Umi-chan.” Kotori sighed and slumped backwards, eyes affixed at the evening sky. It was an odd pose, so far removed from that measured femininity with which she’d always carried herself. “You’re not her keeper, you know.”

Umi bristled. “I never said I was. I just think-”

“You just think she needs you to take care of her?”

Umi tightened her grip on the swing’s chains until her knuckles burned. “Don’t interrupt me, Kotori.”

Kotori lolled her head to the side, to face Umi. “Sorry, that was unfair of me,” she replied sincerely, before she turned back to face the sky. “Here, how about this. Can I tell you something I’ve never told either of you before?”

Umi was still upset, but she steadied herself. Kotori hadn’t really done anything wrong; she was just trying to bridge the divide. “Of course.”

Kotori didn’t reply for a moment, content to bask in the warmth of the summer air, the pinks and oranges outlining the skyscrapers as the sun set behind them. When she did speak, her words came out slowly, with a sense of hesitance.

“For the longest time, whenever you and Honoka fought or disagreed, I felt… happy. That must sound really bad, huh?” She offered up a weary laugh, but Umi couldn’t bring herself to give Kotori the reassurance she was so transparently searching for. Instead she wanted to see where this was going, to measure her response carefully.

Finally, Kotori continued. “I would step in and mediate, tell you to be kinder, tell Honoka to work harder, whatever I felt was right. And you two would make up like you always did, and then we’d all be one happy family or something. It was… nice. It was familiar. It made me feel like the two of you needed me.”

Umi’s breath hitched ever so slightly as that final confession left Kotori’s lips. “I’m… I’m sorry, Kotori. I didn’t know you felt that way.” Umi did something she rarely ever did - she crept her hand closer to Kotori’s and squeezed it gently, an offering of comfort that was acknowledged by Kotori’s eyes growing wide for the faintest moment. “We’ve always needed you, Kotori. Not to fix our mistakes. Just… to be you. I hope you know that.”

Kotori smiled wearily. She let go of Umi. “That’s just the thing, Umi-chan. I decided on Paris in some small part because I thought you were going your own way too. Now that you’re staying in Tokyo, I’m not sure what scares me more: the idea that the two of you _do_ need me and you’ll fall apart when I leave, or the idea that you’ll be perfectly fine.”

Umi couldn’t bear to reply to that, even though she knew that Kotori’s fears deserved credence. She felt a lump form in the back of her throat, one that constricted her breathing and left her choked, long enough for Kotori to continue speaking unabated.

“I’m scared that all you’ll ever do is think about Honoka-chan, to your own detriment. Hers as well.” She paused for the briefest moment, taking in the sun just as it crested the horizon, signalling the evening’s farewell. “Can I ask you one last thing, Umi-chan? Before it’s too late?”

Umi nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat as Kotori turned to face her in the eyes.

“Are you really happy like this?”

The words hung like lead in the air, delivered with none of the lithe grace that Kotori’s voice usually carried. Now it was only sobering, no reassurance to soften the blow nor sage advice to provide cold comfort. It pierced Umi’s heart and reverberated all the way up until the present, as the words echoed over and over in her mind.

“Umi-chan?”

A pair of groggy eyes pried themselves open, exposing themselves to the harsh sunlight that was spilling out from half-parted curtains. Reeling, Umi snapped them shut once again and pulled the cover of the bed up over herself in an almost childish manner.

Had she really been dreaming? Her mind had never been one to stray in the midst of her sleep, and yet it took her a few moments just to process that she wasn’t still in Tokyo, chatting the last dredges of sunlight away with Kotori.

Kotori. _Right._

Umi bristled as she felt a hand jostle her shoulder. After a moment, she worked up the nerve to open her eyes yet again and sat up, meeting Honoka’s gaze.

“Wh… what time?”

Honoka laughed at the way Umi formed her words, each landing with a dull thud in the stale air of the hotel room. “It’s eleven in the morning. I thought you might need your rest,” she added with some small amount of reticence as soon as Umi’s eyes widened. “You looked really wiped last night.”

“... Right,” Umi replied, her voice little more than a murmur as she dragged her legs off the side of the bed and put on a pair of slippers. Her memory returned to yesterday, reminded of an exhaustion that had served as the reward for all her endless fretting. She would never tell Honoka that restless nights had become her new normal, but maybe Honoka already knew. “When do we need to be out the door, again?”

Umi was met with no reply, however. Pausing her trek to the bathroom, she turned around to meet Honoka, who wore an obfuscated expression as her eyes trained directly on Umi. It was vaguely unnerving, like Honoka was looking through her, but she did her best to put that feeling aside. “I _do_ hope you remembered,” she added in her usual chiding tone.

Only after the briefest of passing moments did Honoka put on a smile, as if she had never missed a beat to begin with. “Give me some credit, Umi-chan, how could I forget?” She laughed. “She gets out at two, so maybe we could leave at one, stop at a cafe on the way?”

Umi’s brows knit themselves as if by instinct as she nodded, eyes narrowing in an attempt to glean something, _anything_ , from Honoka’s sudden shift in behavior. Was she nervous about what was to come? Or was her mind simply aimless?

Perhaps it was a futile effort to try and say. For all Honoka’s honesty, she could be inscrutable sometimes, and Umi hated that. She despised the way that she so often felt the space between them like a festering wound, even now as they looked each other in the eyes. The woman she loved stood only a few feet away with a sheepish smile painted across the unblemished skin of her face, and yet...

Why did Honoka have to be so far away from her?

v.

The walk across town was a silent one. Honoka hadn’t wanted to take a cab and Umi had readily agreed, sunshine and the distant chirp of birds vastly preferable to the suffocating drabness of a cab. Umi wasn’t sure she’d have been able to fill the silence of a car anyways; ever since she had stirred from her sleep, she’d been nursing a pit like a black hole forming in her stomach that sucked up all the words she might have spoken. Apparently, Honoka wasn’t much more eager for small talk herself.

The lull in conversation gave Umi a chance to look ahead for once, rather than to Honoka, and what she saw disturbed her. There had been something lurking on the horizon all this time, and yet it hadn’t felt tangible until today; now, though, Umi could see it crystallizing into something tangible, something she could palm in her hand and turn over a million little times.

She didn’t want to see Kotori. Worse, she knew that they _shouldn’t_ see Kotori.

The admission wounded her heart to admit, ripping it apart with guilt and shame. Kotori was their best friend, after all, or at least Honoka insisted that was still the case. They had flown across the world for her. Yet they hadn’t spoken in… how long now?

Umi found her eyes lingering on Honoka as they sat at some gauche, touristy cafe on the Île de la Cité, just across the Seine and a short walk from where they would be waiting for Kotori. Honoka was happily nipping away at a small bowl of coffee gelato, while Umi had chosen not to get anything herself. Without conversation to give her something to focus on aside from the inescapable dread, she found herself discreetly pulling her phone out underneath the table, knitting her brows and twisting her stomach into knots as she scrolled through her texts. There hadn’t been many as of late; communications from anyone other than her parents tended to flow in like a trickle from a leaky faucet.

Christ, her parents. They didn’t even know that Umi was here, nor did anyone from μ’s. What did it say about Umi and Honoka that they hadn’t even told _μ’s_?

Finally, she stumbled across the conversation she’d been searching for, a group chat the three of them shared once upon a time. Umi stared at it for a moment, her heart breaking as she realized that barely anyone had used it aside from Honoka in months. It was message after message from her number, links and memes and random photos she’d taken. One was of some stray μ’s merchandise she had seen, another of a cat she’d found in a back alley. Sure, there was the occasional stray reaction and sticker from Umi, but looking back she was mortified to see how forced they looked. Even Honoka seemed to have given up; the chat’s last believer had never been given any reason to keep trying.

After a pause, Umi had one other thought. She exited the group chat and scrolled through her messages farther and farther back, until an old relic lost to time crept into view.

It was the last message in her private chat with Kotori, a selfie. Hair done up in that achingly familiar little loop, ashen and catching the sunlight just right. A little peace sign made for the camera, a silhouette of a woman haloed by heart and sparkle emojis. In the background, a girl Umi had never met or even heard of, mugging for the camera.

Umi had given one of her many halfhearted replies, and that was it. That had been a little over a year ago.

“Should we get going?”

Umi flinched at the sound of Honoka’s voice. She was so sucked up in a memory from a lifetime ago that she had lost sight of the present moment; as she craned her head up to meet Honoka’s soft smile, lips curled up and eyes sparkling, she softened.

“Yeah,” Umi spoke. “I guess we probably should.” The bill was paid a few moments later, and Umi leveraged the dredges of her French to ask for some quick directions from their server. Within only a few minutes, the two of them were directly over the Seine on the Pont Saint-Michel, walking along cobblestone older than they could fathom. Honoka silently took Umi’s hand, lacing them together loosely without any acknowledgement aside from a flicker of a smile.

 _We’re going to be okay,_ it seemed to say. Whether that was the intended message or even a truthful one at that, Umi couldn’t bear to consider.

Even with the small creature comfort of Honoka’s touch, each step forward that willed Umi towards Kotori took a herculean effort. Her regrets had become a weight she carried with her, her longing manifested as a quiet, lingering heartache. Those emotions had made their home in the vast, empty gulf between her and Kotori, dogging her with the desire to reconnect yet making it impossible to even say hello.

And then they led her to a marble gate outside of the Paris School of Fashion, marked by an imposing stone-carved facade that represented the grandeur and history among which Kotori had made her new life.

It was 12:57pm, and Umi wanted to go home. There was churning in her stomach that wouldn’t stop, and her heart was gripped by a crushing anxiety telling her that this was _wrong._ She needed to go home and forget all this ever happened. They both did..

They couldn’t dredge all of this up just for their own selfish desires. It was so wrong, so unfair. Yet before she could tug Honoka’s hand, to lead her away from all this, Umi found herself unable to move. There, just in front of them, was a head of ashen hair. It appeared when Umi wasn’t looking, almost as if by magic. Kotori faced away from them, gazing down at her phone. They still had time.

Umi tried to whisper to Honoka, but she choked on the words as they lodged themselves in her throat, rendering her unable to even breathe. There was nothing she could do to stop Honoka from speaking Kotori’s name, releasing it into the muggy summer air along with four years of hopeful longing.

Kotori turned around, and she stared. No words were spoken, not when the shock etched across her face said everything. She looked as though she had seen a ghost, and Umi knew perfectly well that she had seen two of them. Only after a few excruciating moments did she finally say something, her vocal cords straining to make sound and her lips just barely able to sculpt it into a few achingly terse words.

“What are you doing here?”

It was funny, in some twisted, tragic sense, that they found themselves here among the ruins of what they’d once held dear. At least, that was the only way Umi could rationalize it to herself. Tragedy became comedy, a coping mechanism she knew all too well. All this time they had been half a globe apart, and yet only now that they were talking to each other did the distance truly feel like a divide too vast to cross.

Even Honoka faltered in the face of Kotori’s reaction. Her breath hitched as she stared back at her childhood friend with wide eyes. Only after several moments had passed, the birds chirping to keep time, did she finally reply.

“We wanted to see you,” she spoke. There was no grace to the words, none of her usually cheerful energy to buoy them. They landed with little more than a dull _thud_ , and it took all of Umi’s strength not to visibly grimace.

“Well,” Kotori whispered, her face completely expressionless, “here I am.” There was a subtle change, one that started almost imperceptibly until it suddenly wasn’t. Her expression was one of stoney coldness as she looked to Honoka, then to Umi, as though she expected something. An explanation, an excuse, an olive branch? Umi couldn’t even tell.

Except then Umi saw the veneer begin to falter, crumbling away faster than Kotori could keep putting it back together. Umi wanted to do something, but when she looked back on that moment far in the future, she would feel nothing but shame at the knowledge that she simply stood there as a pitiful, wretched frown began to overtake Kotori's expression.

"I- I mean…" she tried to continue, the words struggling to leave her mouth. Her hands balled themselves into fists and she began to shake ever so slightly, but she never broke eye contact. "You couldn't have said anything? You just… showed up here?"

Umi's lips parted with the intent of forming a reply, something, _anything_ that could make this okay, but her vocal cords protested. In the distance, church bells chimed to announce the beginning of a new hour and the oppressive march of time. They would have sounded angelic any other day, but now they only taunted Umi.

She turned to look at Honoka, who was beginning to look as fragile as Kotori, her face contorted into a frown. Umi’s mind was cleaved in two, torn between empathy and anger.

And then the two emotions began swirling into something sharper.

“You couldn’t have talked to us to begin with?” Umi finally shot back, her reckless impulses taking over in a sudden shot of indignant adrenaline. She knew that she would regret every feckless word pouring out of her mouth, but she’d never been good at leaving well enough alone. “What were we supposed to do, text you and hope you would reply in a year? Would you have even wanted us here?”

Some part of her wanted to continue the lashing, but the hurt she’d painted onto Kotori gave her enough pause to bate her breath. Only after a few moments did she finally conclude her thoughts as her stomach continued to sink.

“Why can’t you just be happy that we’re here?”

The question was whispered, every word an agony to form and shape and spit out. No more came after, not when the three of them stood there and took in the space between them. It wasn’t interrupted by the sounds of the city, but by another voice, shouting from the front of the school.

“Kotori-chan! I thought I’d missed you!”

Umi’s eyes went wide, and she turned to face the source of the voice as it bounded towards them from the school; a girl with wavy, short ashen hair who was smiling with all the radiance of the sun itself. She paused when she reached Kotori, however, and the smile vanished. She looked at Honoka, then Umi, her gaze lingering on Umi’s hardened, weary visage before it finally returned to Kotori’s.

“Who are these two?” she whispered.

That was when the dam broke. It came down with no forewarning, no signal to prepare Umi’s heart for the devastation in Honoka’s eyes or the panic streaking down Kotori’s cheeks. Before anyone could say anything. Kotori turned in the other direction and took a step away that became two, three, a million. She ran away, disappearing around the corner and leaving her unknown friend looking shellshocked.

Umi’s eyes lingered on the space where Kotori had been, but no amount of attention paid would bring her back. She took every emotion and bottled them in her heart, deep down where she wouldn’t have to confront them, then turned to the girl.

“My name is Umi,” she began in a lifeless, monotone clip. “This is Honoka. We’re friends with Kotori.”

“Oh.” The girl’s eyes went wide with recognition. “You’re from μ’s.” The revelation might have seemed nonchalant had it not been spoken with such urgency, like something she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yeah,” Umi confirmed in a single, weary breath.

That was when the girl’s gaze hardened, becoming reclusive where it had once been so warm and inviting.

“I’m You,” she spoke. “Her girlfriend.”

And then she walked away, leaving Umi and Honoka alone as the birds sang all around them.

vi.

If the walk to Kotori’s school had held a simmering kind of silence, now it was deafening. Any words Umi might have spoken to Honoka were choked on and swallowed whole, leaving her unable to provide whatever cold comfort she might normally offer.

In lieu she elected to turn the conversation over in her mind, looking at it from any and all angles to try and make what she could of it. All the while she danced around her own outburst, one that had carried all the succor of a shot of cyanide. Her mind kept returning to one thing, though, no matter how much she avoided the thought: Kotori had a girlfriend. She hadn’t thought of it at the time, but now Umi realized why that hair was so familiar; it was in Kotori’s selfie, sent so long ago. How long had they been together?

It was none of Umi’s business, and yet that had never stopped her from prying into other people’s affairs. Her mind searched for places it shouldn’t go, diving down each and every rabbit hole with an exhausting relentlessness. She thought of what Kotori must have shared with You, inventing scenario after fictitious scenario of the two of them together. She had no right to be jealous, and yet how could she not be of someone so close to _her_ childhood friend?

Quickly, she found herself cresting the same mountain of anger as before. Her eyes closed. Deep breath, slow inhale, slow exhale, one after another. She contained it, bottled it. Put it back on the shelf with all of her fear and longing and regret.

She wasn’t really even sure when they returned to the hotel; one minute she’d blinked and there they were in the stairwell, then in front of their room, looking at each other with inscrutable expressions. Umi tried to search for the light in Honoka’s eyes but only found a reflection of her own vacant gaze.

“I’m sorry, Honoka.”

The words came out soft as a whisper, and in truth Umi had so many things to apologize for that she couldn’t even know where to begin. It felt selfish of her to offload that burden onto Honoka, but in truth that lone apology was all she could bear to provide in the moment.

But as Honoka opened her mouth to form a reply, someone walked by and stole her words as they passed. She opened the door and stepped inside, leaving Umi to follow.

They said precious few words to one another throughout the rest of the day as they wasted away the sunlight on whatever could hold their attentions. Honoka watched TV, Umi read a book. None of it even registered. The afternoon frayed and unraveled into the evening, bright blue skies melting away into a swirl of pinks and reds as the sun retreated past the patchwork of buildings tracing the horizon.

Umi stood up from her perch on the chair and stared at Honoka, who was in the same position she’d been in for the last several hours - curled up in the bed, eyes glazed over yet still glued to whatever TV show was on. Umi doubted that Honoka could even say what she was watching.

This couldn’t continue.

With resolution in her heart, Umi pulled her suitcase from the closet and planted it on the floor, gathering clothes to pack inside - only then did Honoka seem to come alive, eyes wide at the sight.

“What are you doing?”

Umi looked at her, a frown etched on her face. “I’m packing. You should do the same.”

Honoka jumped up and ran over, frantically grabbing the blouse Umi was folding up. “What? You can’t!” she shouted in a panic. Her eyes darted from Umi to the suitcase, then back again. “You can’t,” she repeated, this time in a whisper. It wasn’t directed at Umi, but at herself.

“We should never have come here,” Umi replied slowly. She placed a hand on Honoka’s shoulder, enough to calm the worst of the panic consuming her. “Honoka, we need to go-”

But before Umi could even finish the thought, to speak a truth they had both known from the very start, she was cut off.

“I want to go dancing,” Honoka said. Her eyes closed and fists clenched tight.

“Honoka…”

“I just- I… I want to have fun, Umi-chan. I don’t want to leave, I just want to forget about everything.” Umi opened her mouth to dismiss Honoka’s desire as some naive flight of fancy, but her vocal cords choked on the single word she needed to say. Honoka’s face contorted into a pitiful frown. “Please, Umi,” she whispered softly.

 _Umi?_ An honorific that had borne years of a carefully-maintained status quo melted away in an instant, leaving her name sounding vulnerable and frail as it crept forth from Honoka’s tongue. Did Honoka not know the weight with which her every action was measured in Umi’s mind, how even the most subtle choice of words was liable to leave its mark across her heart?

Or was Honoka truly just that pitiful in this moment, so consumed by her own heartache that she was incapable of measuring her actions? The thought panged Umi as she saw a single droplet prick at Honoka’s eye, then another, both to be quickly and awkwardly wiped away with the back of a hand.

“If that’s what you want,” Umi murmured. Her will crumbled under the weight of her love, and all she could do was watch as Honoka constructed a bright, beaming, entirely fabricated smile. In a second, she’d already rushed to her suitcase. It lay unceremoniously on the floor, thrown open with clothes scattered about inside. Honoka dug through the pile briefly before pulling out two articles of clothing: dresses, a dark orange-red piece for Honoka and a navy blue equivalent for Umi. Both were clearly short and form-fitting, and Umi looked to Honoka looking for an explanation. Honoka only laughed bashfully.

“I picked this one out for you before we left. I guess I hoped we’d do something fun while we were here, with…”

Her words trailed off suddenly, and her smile flickered. Unceremoniously, she rushed to the bathroom and shut the door, only mumbling something about changing while Umi stood there, unable to offer a word of comfort.

How pathetic was she that she couldn’t even think of a single thing worth saying?

All she could do was to put on her own dress, grimacing at how it clung to her body. She’d always felt vulnerable in clothes like this; as an idol, Kotori’s ruffles and brash strokes of fabric had been a welcome solace on the stage, something for her anxiety-addled mind to hide behind. Now, she had no such armor. She felt exposed and vulnerable, put upon by the way the dress glimmered in the sterile light of the hotel room. It shone brightly, when all Umi felt she deserved to do was hide in the dark.

Honoka, however, was breathtaking. She’d finally stepped out of the bathroom wearing her dress, stealing away Umi’s breath in an instant. She’d even put on some makeup for the occasion, eyeshadow sultrily framing the cerulean of her irises. Umi’s mouth felt dry.

“You, uh, look nice.”

A wry smile crept onto Honoka’s face, given definition by the pale red of her lipstick. “You always say that,” she replied quietly, as if she were trying to reject the compliment but couldn’t quiet find the words to do so. Her voice was worn, but it still fought to reach Umi’s ears.

“Because it’s true. You look beautiful, Honoka. You always have.”

Umi’s vocal cords formed the words without her mind’s consent, yet she had said them all the same - and meant them. She blushed and looked away, but Honoka wouldn’t let her. She grabbed Umi’s hand, and when Umi looked back, she saw the first true warmth in Honoka’s eyes that day.

The next few hours were a whirlwind. Honoka led her from the hotel into a Parisian night, full of romance and hedonism and bright lights that looked like they belonged less in reality than in a Monet. They crawled the Marais first, Honoka eagerly tugging Umi into all kinds of bars and clubs, the kinds of places that Umi would never go of her own free will.

For Honoka, though, she would endure anything. Loud music, drinks, obnoxious partiers; it all receded from her peripheral vision as long as she kept Honoka in her sights.

Finally, after they were both already worn thin and floating on a few glasses of wine, they reached a discothèque tucked away in the narrow side streets. Umi would have paled at the thought of entering such a seedy-looking establishment, but Honoka talked them past the bouncer with only a few words of French, leaving her little time to complain before they went inside.

Umi never quite remembered what happened when they went inside - all the blinding lights and music and pure adrenaline melted away into a single moment, a feeling. That was all she needed, there on the dancefloor dancing with Honoka and genuinely smiling for the first time in what felt like years. No sorrow, no regrets. Just that feeling of untethered joy and young love.

By the time Honoka had the sense to lead them outside, Umi had been run ragged, gasping for breath and sweating up an ocean as she braced herself against Honoka. The worst of her inebriation had melted away, leaving only a slight sway in her step that threatened to topple her over in her current state. A rideshare provided a panacea, though, allowing Umi to crawl inside and slump against the backseat as they were whisked back to their hotel. Honoka held her hand tenderly, stroking it with a thumb as she whispered.

“We’ll be home soon, Umi. It’ll be alright.”

Each word sent Umi’s heart fluttering higher and higher into the night sky, the vestiges of a pinot noir shielding it from the insidiously anxious thoughts that usually sent it crashing back down. This was _their night_ , she told herself as they pulled up at the hotel and made their way back inside the room in a blur. She repeated it to herself like a mantra as Honoka crept towards the bed and laid down, turning to Umi with an opaque gleam in her eye.

She beckoned Umi closer with that pleading, innocent smile she had always worn so well, and Umi’s will couldn’t prevent her from obeying. Her body stepped forward without her mind’s consent; even feet like bricks of lead couldn’t stop her as every step pulled Umi closer to the embrace of soft, satin bedsheets. Only after taking off her pumps did she climb in beside Honoka, her hands carefully snaking themselves around Honoka’s still-clothed body like it would shatter with even the slightest wrong movement. Her own dress remained on as well, clinging to her grimy, sweat-soaked skin with a will of its own.

Umi felt Honoka shiver within her grasp, and her heart pounded like a drum. She was hyper-conscious of where her hands lay, one resting against Honoka’s soft stomach and the other jammed awkwardly between them without anywhere to go. It was entirely ungraceful, but Honoka didn’t particularly seem to mind. She wriggled herself further into Umi’s grasp and tugged a blanket over the two of them, settling into a quiet that felt like it swaddled and suffocated them at the same time.

Though Honoka seemed thoroughly relaxed, the situation gave Umi little to do other than stew in her own feelings. They hadn’t touched each other like this since they were kids; in the midst of their twenties, though, the contact carried with it an entirely different meaning. It was _sensual_ now, the way that Umi held Honoka and breathed in the scent of her hair. That she reveled in it sent her spiraling into a wave of guilt; Honoka was hurting, and yet Umi’s heart raced all the same.

She wanted Honoka even closer. How could she be so selfish?

She tried to pull a hand away, but Honoka held fast, pulling it taut against her sternum with a quiet _hmph_ for effect. It left Umi with little recourse, and she was forced to stay still, to listen to Honoka breathe softly and try not to think about the placement of her arm against Honoka’s body.

Finally, _finally_ , Honoka spoke.

“Do you like being around me?”

The words caught Umi off guard, a hitch in her breath as she inhaled the scent of Honoka’s hair. They seemed so out of sync with the moment, but perhaps Honoka had been holding onto them all throughout the night.

“Of course I like being around you,” she whispered in return. “You’re my best friend.”

Honoka laughed, a pitiful sound. “I really wonder about that, sometimes. If you like me.” She paused, and all the sound was sucked up into a void, leaving only the steady tick of the clock. “Don’t I feel like a burden sometimes? I take you places we shouldn’t go, make mistakes you have to clean up… it scares me so much, Umi. Knowing that you’d be so much more without me around.”

“But I’ve always been happy following you,” Umi eagerly replied. “You took us to Love Live-”

Honoka suddenly shot up, ripping herself from Umi’s embrace. “Love Live was six years ago!” she shouted, vitriol and venom like Umi had never heard laced into every word. “It was six years ago,” she repeated quietly, more to herself than Umi. An admission, perhaps. A regret. “You’re better off without me now.”

It was at that moment that Umi’s nerves finally frayed, the last of the wine fading from her to reveal a cold clarity she wasn’t prepared to confront. She shuddered and curled inward, occupying the empty space where Honoka had once lay in her arms.

“Please don’t say that,” she whispered, though her voice was no less decisive than it would be if her voice were raised.

“You can’t act like it isn’t true,” Honoka shot back in a huff.

“It _isn’t_!” Her voice crescendoed to a swell of rash anger, then petered back down to a slow simmer. “You can’t just decide these things for me,” Umi added quietly. “It’s... selfish.” Her eyes trained on the lace of the pillowcase, anything to avoid looking at Honoka as she laid back down next to Umi.

Even though she knew Honoka was hurting, Umi couldn’t help but focus on herself, no matter how wrong it was. She felt so hurt and confused at the way Honoka beckoned her closer one moment only to push her away the next, all under the pretense that it was best for her - as if Honoka truly knew what that entailed.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“You just thought you knew me that well?” Umi interrupted, filling in the yawning silence left by Honoka with malice that she knew Honoka didn’t deserve. “Maybe if you weren’t so focused on Kotori all the time, you’d actually know why I’m doing all this for you!”

There it was, the words she was never supposed to speak, Pandora’s box flung wide open and left to gather dust. Umi couldn’t bring herself to face Honoka, not when she could already vividly imagine the hurt painted onto her face.

But still she pressed onward, carrying the hurt of seeing Honoka draw away from her. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she chose her next words carefully, thrust onward by a desperate desire to hear the answer.

"What am I to you, Honoka?"

Was she anything at all?

"I, um..."

Honoka was everything to Umi. Umi needed Honoka like a forlorn winter needs its spring to melt away the snow and coax the flowers into a beautiful bloom - but spring needs the summer, and Umi could never be that. She could never be so beautiful and warm and fleeting, not when she relied on Honoka just to instill some vague sense of life into her bones.

It wasn’t enough to know, though - it would never be. She needed to hear the truth from Honoka’s lips, and no matter how wrong it was to do so, she pressed. Her gaze trained itself on Honoka, pleading for a reply, for _anything_ that could let her let go.

“You’re my Umi-chan,” Honoka eventually replied with a nervous laugh, the quiver in her voice hastily paved over with a shallow veneer of _“I’m fine, I promise, please think I’m fine.”_ There it was again - the honorific, the distance, the quiet longing that Umi so painfully knew. It stung sharply, as though salt had been poured in a wound she’d been nursing for years.

“I’m the one who stays by your side,” Umi began again, turning to face Honoka as soon as she could will a stiff upper lip. “ Everything I do, Honoka, I do because I want you to be okay. Because I want you to be _happy_. How could you act like I’m just… putting up with you? Like I don’t even care?”

Suddenly, she regretted looking at Honoka. Those crystal blue eyes were so _sad_ , a maelstrom of emotion that Umi couldn’t bear to witness. She looked down, like the coward she was.

“I… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Honoka finally spoke. “But please… don’t act like Kotori doesn’t care. I know that’s what you’re saying,” she added hesitantly, unsure of her own accusation.

And that was enough to reignite Umi’s passion, to cause her to raise her voice, spilling her words out in a single acidic downpour as she grasped at the space between them, feeling spurned and forgotten.

"Of _course_ that’s what I’m saying! You keep talking about her like she's been by your side, while I'm staring you in the face! I've been here for you this whole time and Kotori hasn't. Don't you get it, Honoka? She doesn't care about us! She doesn’t care about _you_!"

Yet as soon as each venomous, hateful word had finally left Umi's mouth, spit out into the open and leaving her with nothing to hide, she just wanted to take them all back. Honoka only stared at her, barely even looking hurt so much as stunned. A tear stained her cheek, then another, until the floodgates finally opened and she was truly crying.

Never in her life had Umi hated herself more than in that very moment. Not when she sat up and ran out the door, fumbling for her phone and wallet and closing the door behind her with an unintended slam. Not when she escaped down the stairwell, emerging into the moonlit street without a single intent other than to get as far away from the woman she loved as possible.

Not even when she texted Kotori for her address before stumbling off into the night.


End file.
